Poor Thing
by totalphangirl
Summary: the story of Lucy Barker's rape told from three different perspectives; one is from her perspective, the other is from Judge Turpin's and the third is a surprise. Ok, I did try not to make this too sexual but... it's about rape. It is quite violent and upsetting. also I am a big-fluffy-bunny-person so my evil judge Turpiness wasn't my favorite perspective ever. Thank you.


**Ok, so this is slightly more sexual than I intended… I tried not to make it too bad but some of the descriptions from Turpin's point of view are a little intense.** **requests are very welcome; I need to know what you want to read!**

I laid Johanna down in her shallow crib and resumed my normal place by the window. It was such a joy to watch my beautiful daughter sleep; her soft creamy skin, her delicate eyes and pink puckered mouth resting silently, unperturbed by the riff-raff happening outside my husband's shop. I remembered the days that Benjamin would stand with me over Johanna's bed and the thought punched a hole through my chest. How could Judge Turpin accuse a man so wrongly? My Benjamin would never dream of committing any crime, he had far too much to lose. Of all the terrible things Johanna and I had suffered it must not come close to the hardships he faced in Australia. From the minute he left Turpin did not leave me alone. He stood outside the shop everyday with bouquets of flowers, no empathy or pity for my newly found grief. I would never hurt Benjamin like that. Even if he was dead I would never find happiness in another man, never betray him, not ever.

The night I laid Johanna down to rest there was a knock on the door. I prepared a small speech in my head for any men needing a shave, cut across the room and flung the door open. 'My husband has… Oh,' The Beadle stood before me, his sinister smile revealing the worst of his slimy yellow teeth. 'Can I help you?' I inhaled heavily and straitened my back, ready to refuse any requests of Judge Turpin.

'Turpin called for you,' He started, swinging his long staff like a pendulum.

'He did?'

'Yes. I believe you and your daughter have suffered the most dreadful plight,' I began to close the door.

'That is no concern of yours!'

'He wants to help!' I slowly let the door slide open. 'He blames himself for your dreadful plight, you see.'

'Oh.'

'He could help you. He requested that you come to his house tonight so you could...erm…_discuss _the matter,' Beadle's unpleasant grin broadened.

'Tonight?'

'Yes! Now hurry!' I glanced over and Johanna's crib and thought about the future we would have. I couldn't work. I would do this. For Johanna. I threw on a shawl and took hold of Beadle's outstretched hand. With one last glance at my daughter we descended down the stairs into the night.

* * *

I stumbled through the dimly lit dance hall, flashes of black and red whirling and pounding as they raced across my eyes. I took another sip of my strong drink and felt my legs buckle. Through the maze of spinning masks I could make out a red couch and collapsed into it, woozy with intoxication. As soon as I closed my eyes lights began to spin and as I opened them a figure loomed into focus. It was Turpin. At first I thought he too was drunk and that he had fallen over, onto me. It took a few painful seconds to realize the horror of what he was really doing. I could feel something rough between my thighs. He'd prized my legs open and was moving slowly above me. As soon as I tried to move from this painful, painful grasp he seized hold of my wrists, pinning me down to the sofa so all I could do was scream. I looked around frantically for help, my screams ringing in the air, mingled with the sound of crude laughter. My eyes fell on the Beadle but all he did was stare longingly at the two of us. I sobbed, feeling my heart break in my chest as the full impact hit me. He moved harder, faster, and my arms flailed uselessly, clawing at his back. 'PLEASE!' I screamed. 'NO! STOP! STOP!' masked beasts laughed at my pathetic, naïve attempts to free myself. Merciless creatures huddled closer and with one last dry, hard thrust he was done. He stood over me, breathing heavily. I lay sobbing beneath him, my skirts crumpled and the top ties of my corset unlaced. For a while I did not move. I feared that the other guests would do the same to me but eventually I pulled myself upright, noting the gnawing pain in my stomach, and stumbled aimlessly towards the door. Turpin was buttoning up his cloths. He smiled at me as I left, filled with triumph over what he had just earned. All it took was one more mocking step closer towards me before I flinched and ran out of the grand house screaming. Laughs echoed behind me and it took me a while before I noticed the steady stream of blood leaking from between my legs. On that shameful, red-hot walk home I vomited twice, from shock, pain and general drinking. I felt like my world was collapsing onto itself. How cruel. What a vile monster of a man.

* * *

Lucy Barker's pretty little face loomed into sight in the window. I held out the bouquet of flowers and resisted laughing when she turned away. If only she knew my plans for her. I turned towards my good friend Beadle Bamford and we exchanged the same grin before walking home. The ballroom was already set up to the last possible detail. The drinks were prepared. I had slipped in a drug from the apothecary that I had intended for Lucy. If she drank it then she would be much easier to control; She would probably feel less too although I wouldn't. A shiver of excitement slipped through me as Beadle went to fetch my prize. The dancers began their slow waltz and I quickly dressed into my long coat and mask. I noticed her the minute she arrived. Her beautiful yellow hair was coiled up and her white dress provided a stark contrast on the black and red. A grin slipped onto my face as she took her first fateful sip of the drink. I had warned my guests of the affects the drink had, resulting in none but Lucy touching it. The effects hit her as soon as she finished the small tumbler and to my delight she reached for another; This would be easier than I though.

Mere minutes later she fell, woozy onto a couch. The perfect opportunity. While her eyes were closed I darted forward, grasping the corner of my cloak. The minute her eyes opened the growth began between my legs. I lowered my mask and fell atop her, my excited hands fiddling with the ties on her dress. I scrambled underneath her skirts and pulled her knees apart. The rest was easy. Her pathetic attempts to free herself were soon resolved with a quick grasp of her wrists. There was no point fighting. She was mine; like a mouse in a trap. The guests enjoyed the show, the laughter becoming more raucous as I became more vigorous, enjoying this moment like nothing else in the world. With a last push, a gasp and a shudder I was done. I towered above her, looking at her pathetic young face. She was crying. I signaled to the Beadle and we waited in the shadows for her to come. I began re-buttoning my clothes, only to see her stumbling towards the door. She ran home and I wondered how she could have screamed so desperately. When I looked at Beadle I ducked my head, perhaps in shame. I wanted to love her. I wanted her to be mine. I didn't want to hurt her but if that's what it took to love her then I would be happy to. That night I lay in the dark, knowing with pride that I had slept with Lucy Barker.

* * *

The night of the party was one of the most guilt-stricken of my life. Why I attended at all was a mystery. Perhaps it was just jealousy. I had a clear idea of what Turpin would do to Lucy once she was in his grasp but I did nothing to stop it. I didn't warn her. I let her pace the room restlessly for hours on end without letting on the horror she had in store. I gathered an outfit and a mask. When Lucy and the Beadle left I followed behind them, letting him drag her to her awful, awful fate. That was when the guilt hit me the hardest. I saw her stumbling around the room aimlessly in her white dress, like a lost duckling. She drunk the clear yet dangerous liquid and then collapsed into the sofa, her soft face ghostly-pale. I retreated upstairs immediately after I saw the Judge's eyes cloud with lust. I needed a place to hide. Anywhere. I tried two doors, both of which led me to a busy couple who were too engrossed to notice me there. On the third door I found an empty chamber, perhaps reserved for guests. It was dark and dimly lit with deep red drapes bordering the black windows. I threw myself on the bed and sobbed, my mask abandoned by my side. How could I stand by? How? I buried my face in the coarse red material of the blankets, my shoulders jerking. My cries were muffled, my damp cheeks soiled the bed with tears and I rolled onto my front. In no time at all I heard screams. Not the normal kind of scream that erupts from a bed of laughter or surrounding noise, this was a dry, piercing scream that echoed through Turpin's house and made me cry with her. It felt as if Lucy was standing next to me, directing her desperate plea at me like I was the only one who could help. From the distance I heard her begs. 'NO! PLEASE! STOP! HELP ME!' the noise was somewhat cushioned by the sound of laughter, presumably made by the vulgar guests. What was wrong with me? The screams grew louder and I couldn't bear the white noise rattling around inside my head. I stumbled across down the narrow corridor and found myself at the top of the stairs. At that very moment in time all I wanted to do was save her. She was so young and vulnerable; she needed me.

'Lucy!' I called but she didn't hear me. She'd been spat out of the house and was now walking aimlessly towards Benjamin's shop. I couldn't let the kid see her like this. 'Lucy!' I called again. This time she stopped to vomit. 'Lucy!' from the minute I approached her I caught a whiff of drink and sick. Her face was flushed, tears streaking down her cheeks. Red stained the front of her dress, dark pooling pain that I had allowed to happen. 'Oh, darling,' I said quietly, and gently lifted her arm over my shoulders. She flinched at first and then leaned into me. Thankfully she was so dazed that she didn't realize my mask or my outfit. She slowly began climbing the stairs and the whole structure heaved with rotting wood. She buckled over, clutching her stomach and I couldn't believe how I could have ever been jealous of her. 'I'll help you!' I started but she just shook her head.

'Thank you Nellie,' she whispered and then climbed the stairs. That night I heard her sobs and lay awake in the inevitable knowledge that God saved the hottest place in hell for the bitch that turned a blind eye.

Fifteen years later

'They figured she had to be daft, you see, so all of 'em stood there and laughed, you see, poor soul! Poor thing!'

_'NO_! would no-one… have mercy on her?' I looked up at Benjamin Barker. _'I could have,' _I thought and the guilt swelled up inside of me. How could I look her husband straight in the eyes and lie? He was so torn. I had yet to tell him of what happened to his dear little daughter. That sweet little thing. I could have saved her too. Why didn't I? Why did I stand aside again to let Turpin ruin her life too?

'So it is you! Benjamin Barker!'

'Where's Lucy? Where's my wife?' I ducked my head in shame, ready to lie again. I wouldn't say she was alive. I would let him to think her dead.

'She poisoned herself… arsenic, from the apothecary 'round the corner… tried to stop her. But she wouldn't listen to me.' I looked hard and straight into Benjamin's eyes. They shone with tears. There was the smallest, smallest glimmer of hope in them; time to flatten it. 'An' e's got your daughter.' The glimmer dulled down. His face controlled. His brow furrowed and he glowered with hate. It was the final straw.

'He? Judge Turpin?' he spat.

'Adopted her, like his own.' Benjamin took a deep breath.

'Fifteen years, sweating in a living hell on a false charge. Fifteen years dreaming… I might come home to a wife and child…' pain broke in his voice.

'Well… can't say the years have been particularly kind to you Mr. Barker.' He spun on his heel to face me.

'No! not Barker. That man is dead. It's Todd now: Sweeney Todd. And he will have his revenge.' I would help him. If I didn't help Lucy all those years ago then I would help her family; besides, if my blind eye had earned me the hottest place in hell then what did I have to lose?


End file.
